Quasso Murus
by Callista Fyre
Summary: "Granger! Stay with me!" He shouted at me, shaking my shoulders. "Dammit! Stay with me, Hermione!" It was at that moment, hearing my name roll of his lips, that I was struck with such a desire to live. Yet, it was only seconds ago, when I would have gladly accepted death.


**Title**: Quasso Murus

**Author**: Callista Fyre

**Rating**: PG-13/Drama

**Summary**: The war between light and darkness rages on, countless lives have been taken, battles lost and won. She falls back from the war zone, alone and wounded. But when all hope seems lost, it took one person to cross the line…in order to restore it.

**Author's Note**: Wrote this story years ago when book 6, _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_, first came out (yup, that looooong ago). I have also been gone from the Fanfiction scene since 2011 but I remembered how much I enjoyed it and my boyfriend insisted I go back to writing. It feels really good to be back so far and I realized that I had never posted this. Might as well continue what I had started so long ago and see if I still have it (when it comes to writing). Please enjoy!

* * *

It was raining.

Hard.

It came down sharp and piercing, like cold, serrated bullets of a Muggle machine gun, penetrating my body and skin like a thousand knives. I was soaked; my drenched hair, tangled and dripping.

Grey, gargantuan clouds unfurled throughout the sky. The dark clouds billowed and collided together like two great glaciers crashing into each other. The sun appeared non-existent and the only light came from the horizon, which turned from golden to a deep, blood-red, lining the surrounding mountains. The wind blew harshly and the bitter cold was fierce.

I could see almost nothing. My vision seemed as if overcast; everything looked like a blur, a silhouette, taking no distinguishable form or shape. I was blinded as I ran through the Forbidden Forest; once a place I never thought I'd ever venture in again.

As I tried my best dodging towering trees such as oak, pine, beech, and sycamore, blinding flashes, blasts, and jets of green and red light exploded behind me. The screams of terror and cries of suffering all around me were deafening. I plunged into the hazy, blue mist as branches and undergrowth of knot grass and thorns tore at my skin, biting into my face, arms, and legs. I stole a look back at the crumbling mass of my beloved castle.

I had to find them. We had to get out of here. Fighting back was an option that was given up hours ago. I tried to stay, fighting with every last drop of hope and spirit I still had left. But people were falling dead all around me and...

I didn't see them go down...they couldn't possibly be...

I need to find them. We could not stay in this bloodbath...this massacre.

As I ran farther into the forest, I suddenly lost all sense of direction. I looked upward and saw that the gigantic trees created an obscuring canopy blocking out all light. As I brought my gaze down, I found myself in complete darkness. I was hit with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt so lost, so alone.

_Could they have left me? Was I betrayed? Did they condemn me to death?_

My breathing became irregular as I could see the gusts of air that my breath and the cold air created swirling faster and faster before me. Then a sudden sharp pain struck at my upper abdomen. My chest and lungs were burning for air and the severe pain on my muscles at the back of my thighs spread to my aching legs from running for so long. But I couldn't stop, not even if I wanted to.

Nature, though, seemed to think differently.

As rain continued to pour relentlessly, I turned my head, my leg crashed into an uprooted tree, and I felt myself falling with a strangled yelp, and blackness enveloped me.

* * *

"Who's there?" a gruff, hoarse voice called out, bringing me back to consciousness.

My eyes shot open...and I immediately shut them close again. My head was throbbing severely

and I felt as if it was threatening to split open. There was a numbing pain in my right leg, which was the one that had crashed into the bark of the tree lying a few feet away.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" the voice called out again in the same tone, but I realized now that it was lined with exhaustion.

I tried to pry my eyes open and saw a dark figure moving towards me. Whatever or whoever it was, from what I could tell, was rather tall yet sluggish in his movements. It was still raining hard and I was shivering with the cold. The ground and as well as myself were covered in mud.

As the tall figure approached me, wand in hand, I felt my impending demise. With my line of vision still hazy and the pain numbing my other senses, I really had no other option. This is it...I'm going to die, I'm finally going to die...murdered by a Death Eater.

But the feeling that came to me at that very moment was unexpected. It was not of fear nor anger nor hatred. It wasn't any of the emotions that would have been reasonable at a time like this. Instead, it was the dejecting emotion of indifference. I found out that I no longer cared anymore. My own exhaustion overwhelmed me. I was so tired of fighting. I could barely move. My limbs were sore and overworked, and I felt the dripping blood from a head wound, which I might have gotten from my fall, trickling down my face.

When the figure stopped a few feet in front of me, I tried to look up but I couldn't. My whole body was aching. Then suddenly-

"Granger?" the voice said, evidently surprised "Granger, is that you? Merlin—you look like hell."

I could not see clearly who had spoken. But whoever owned that voice knew my name. My hands grasped at the tree behind me as I slowly tried to push myself up.

A searing pain shot up in my right leg and I felt my knees buckle and I began to fall but before I could hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught me, grasping me at the shoulders and at the arm.

"Don't try to move. You can't walk," the voice said sharply, but then his tone let up slightly. "It seems as if...as if your right leg is broken."

The next thing I knew, I had collapsed into his arms. I began to fall back into unconsciousness again. The last thing I remember was someone lifting me behind my shoulders and the back of my legs and carrying me away from the ground.

* * *

"Granger..."

The pounding rain seemed to have ceased to a drizzle. I was being set back on the ground. However, my head was placed on something far softer and smoother than the cold, drenched soil.

"Granger...wake up. You've been out of it for nearly an hour," a voice broke into my senses.

I opened my eyes slowly, my head's throbbing had lessened but my body still felt severely sore. It seemed that we were in another part of the dark forest, as I could see blurs of different shades of earth colors. As my vision cleared, I looked up and saw a pair of grey eyes staring back at me.

"W—what," my voice was hoarse as I forced myself to make a sound. "What—what happened?"

The man before me averted his eyes. "You...passed out, so to speak," He said, barely audible.

He looked so worn out. "I had to carry you all the way here."

_He what?_

"You carried me for an hour?" I asked him. _Why would he of all people do that?_

"You were quite light," he shrugged. "And with your broken leg and the fact that you collapsed in

my arms, I doubt very much I could have made you walk."

He turned away from me before speaking again. "Forget about it, it's not like you were heavy or anything."

He fully knew that was not what I meant but he obviously wanted to avoid answering the real question. I decided to let it go for I was too tired to get the accurate answer out of him. He then reached out with his hand and adjusted something below my head. I flinched slightly until I saw that he had folded the coat he was wearing, when I first saw him, for me to use as a pillow. That's when I realized his partially

torn shirt and severe gashes and bruises across his arms. I raised an eyebrow at him but he

ignored it.

"Where's your wand?' He asked me.

_Where's my wand?...My wand!_

My arms felt like they had weights on them but I managed to feel around my sides but nothing seemed to be in the pockets of my own coat. I know I had it while I was battling with the others in the grounds at the castle. I must have had it with me. It was my only defense; the only thing that could protect me now from...did I have it while I was running? Could it have fallen in my haste?

"Granger? Your wand?"

"Er...I don't have it. I must have dropped it while..." I trailed off and glared at him. "Why do you ask What are you planning to do? Kill me with my own wand?" I snarled at him.

He looked taken aback, but only slightly. He glared back at me. "I just spent the previous hour

carrying you in my arms. What makes you think I'd wait that long if I just wanted to kill you?"

He had a point, though I didn't want to believe him. I've learned throughout the war never to let my guard down...especially to him. Not because he was the enemy but because he was simply...him. But I was so weak now. Loss of strength, loss of...spirit.

"Then what is it that you want?" I spat at him. "To humiliate me? To mock me? To ridicule me?"

"Granger, what are you bloody on about—"

"Please, whatever the hell it is just do it already! Get it over and done with! Then you can leave me be!" I started to sob.

"You stupid bint!" He spat back. "This place is swarming with Death Eaters! There is no

way in hell I am leaving you alone!"

I didn't know what to say to that but I had a sudden urge to hit him across the face, and I would have done it too if only my arms would have allowed me. He was making me so damn confused. What

was he doing, then? What was his plan?

I hated being so defenseless, so vulnerable, especially in front of him. Whatever it was he wanted with me, I wish he would just go ahead and do it. It's not as if I were going anywhere. After all, I was just lying haplessly on the ground. Why couldn't he just leave me out here to die? Why does he insist on making a mockery of me?

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Well, I guess I have no choice. I don't have the dragon heartstring in my wand that yours does but I should still be able to heal most of your wounds."

I looked up at him startled again as he took hold of his wand, pointed it towards my head and muttered a spell. I remembered that I had a bruise there from my fall but that and the throbbing sensation I had had earlier had vanished as he casted the spell.

His eyes turned back on me. "I can take away the pain from your leg but you're going to

have to wait until you find a tonic to mend the bone."

I just nodded my head weakly and he performed the spell once more. It indeed reduced the pain

from my leg but suddenly, I became aware of something else. I had felt a tinge of it earlier but I had been practically running blindly through the forest determined to find a way out. And a few minutes ago, I was distracted by the excruciating pain of my leg. Now that he had cast the spell, I felt it again.

But now, it was far more severe. I reached out and gripped his arm tightly.

"Granger, what are you-" He started, trying to wrench his arm away. Then he stopped abruptly

as he turned to glance at me again. An unfamiliar expression took over his features. An expression I had never seen on his face before.

My grip tightened, my fingernails digging deeper into his skin, and I screwed my eyes shut, as the pain seemed to intensify. If that was even possible, I had no clue.

"Can't...can't breathe..."

His eyes widened and he reached out to pull apart my coat. "Dear Merlin..."

A huge blood stain was across my white buttoned up shirt and I could feel more fresh blood begin to seep through. _Why hadn't I noticed it while I was running?_ The irregularity of my breathing started to increase. Now that I could feel it, it was agonizing.

He lifted his wand. "_Diffindo_!"

My shirt fell apart.

If I had any strength left I would have hastily covered myself and pushed his hands away, but the intense pain across my torso overwhelmed me. I noticed his eyes widen when he saw the wound. It was as if I was stabbed with a fine dagger slashed diagonally across my chest. I saw him momentarily clutching his own chest, as if he had been hit by the same spell.

He gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it off his body. Was he mad? The rain may have lessened in severity, but the air remained brutally cold. He surprised me even more, as he tore a piece off of his shirt and pressed the crumpled piece of cloth into my wound. I flinched with the added pressure. However, the blood kept flowing, like a river breaking through a dam.

"Holy shit! Granger, why the hell didn't you tell me earlier?" He didn't expect an answer. "You could...could..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence. I had lost so much blood in the past hour. And by the magnitude of the spell, it was clearly irreversible. I knew I was going to die.

"Who cast sectumsempra on you?" He demanded angrily, and I flinched again even though it was not directed towards me. It was then that I realized that his chest wasn't as flawless as I had anticipated. Across his bare torso he had an almost identical scar as the one that was definitely going to form on my chest. At that moment, I realized why he was so frightened. He had been hit by that same spell, after all...but that was three years ago.

"I—I don't remember!" I gasped out. It was getting increasingly harder to breathe. The wisps of air from my breath were coming out in gasps.

"Goddammit Granger, you are going to have to try!" He said.

I wracked my brain, trying to recall the incident, but to no avail. The severe pain was distracting enough and I could see my frame of reference spin faster and faster by the minute. Then suddenly, an image came to mind.

Before he had performed the spell, the Death Eater had sneered at me. "I will enjoy killing you, Mudblood. And this time, I won't fail!"

He had removed his mask but his face was partially obscured by his hood, but his voice was frighteningly familiar. I must have heard him somewhere before...

"Dolohov!" I choked out. "Antonin Dolohov!"

Dolohov, the Death Eater, had nearly killed me during my fifth year in the Department of Mysteries. It was quite clear that he wanted to finish the job during this battle. He was very skilled with a certain spell that caused severe internal injury. From what I could recall, a jet of purple flame shot out from his wand in a sort of zigzag pattern that rendered me unconscious. If it weren't for Harry and Neville, I could have died that night..._Harry, please be alive_...

"Agh!" I yelped, arching my back as a spasm shot through me. I was becoming delirious with the fierce pain and serious loss of blood.

"Dolohov, that bastard" the man beside me cursed. "He created a spell that combined sectumsempra with his specialty attack!" He lifted the blood-soaked and dripping piece of cloth from my wound and discarded it to the side.

His hands were on me again but I could hardly tell whether or not he was being rough or gentle as he traced the open wound across my chest; I could hardly feel his fingertips...

"He must have used a timing charm as well...that's probably why you didn't notice it until you lost enough blood..." He continued, lifting his bloodied hands after inspecting my cut. Blood on his hands, my blood, Mudblood on pureblood hands...

It's ridiculous of me to think about that now, but it was just so surreal. I'd never thought I'd see the day...

"Granger, what's your blood type?" He asked abruptly.

"What?" I tried to say, but all that came out was a puzzled sound. The world was whirling before me...I felt so lightheaded...

"Your blood type, Granger!" He said urgently.

At first I didn't know what he meant. Did he mean me being a Muggle-born? Because he knew all that...no, he couldn't possibly mean the actual blood type.

"A...I'm type A..." I managed to say, but my words were becoming incoherent.

He seemed to have understood me though, as his eyes turned from my wound to focus on my face.

"So am I..." he said in a voice barely above a whisper, but that could probably be for the reason that my senses were starting to fail me.

He recoiled, as his hands were covered in more of my blood. He had a very pained look on his face, "Dammit Granger..."

I could tell he didn't know what to do, but I really couldn't blame him. No matter how unlikely it was, he had tried to save me. Save me...

Is that what he's doing? Why is he even doing this? I really wish I could interpret the distraught look on his face as concern for me...but that couldn't be it, could it? As if he would really care about me. Why would he? We were fighting on opposing sides. We were enemies. Me, a Mudblood, him, a pureblood...my head started throbbing again. I could feel myself fading and I knew that at any moment I would feel that familiar darkness overtaking me again, bringing me from one nightmare to another. One where I'd probably never wake up again.

"Granger! Stay with me!" He shouted at me, shaking my shoulders. "Dammit! Stay with me, Hermione!"

It was at that moment, hearing my name roll of his lips, that I was struck with such a desire to live. Yet, it was only seconds ago, when I would have gladly accepted death.

I was so tired of the fighting; so tired of the war. Extremely exhausted beyond belief; I hadgiven up. I always held on to hope as my lifeline, the thing that always kept me going, but I felt as if the more I tightened my grip the more of it slipped through my fingers. I never felt so helpless in my life. The lifeline was breaking. And I had to let go, I had to. It was hopeless. I had been fighting for a lost cause. Things were never going to be the same again. I would never be able to regain that piece of faith and hope that had left me for good…

Then he comes to me, begging me to take it back. Pleading with me to reattach the severed lifeline—and I realized with surprise, he still had hope…but not for his own side.

His own side, which was clearly winning. Instead it was hope for my side, the side he was clearly fighting against. Hope for me…hope for me to live…

He had reached over and grasped my hand, squeezing it as if hoping I would return it to give him reassurance. Yet I knew I couldn't. I was dying here, in front of him…I could feel myself fading from the earth…in mere moments, I would cease to exist.

The man took out what looked like a knife from his black leather boot and sliced at the skin on his wrist without so much as a wince. He then picked up his wand and muttered a spell. I didn't recognize it but… my eyes fluttered close.

"Hermione…please," He whispered. "Don't lose the will to live…not yet…"

And then my world went black.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Hope you all enjoyed reading the first part of QM! Please leave a review on the way out. I also love any constructive criticism since I didn't run this through a beta editor before posting it. Part 2, coming soon!


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